


Of Coy Winks and Wry Smiles

by HeartOfIron



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 02:25:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartOfIron/pseuds/HeartOfIron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Darcy paid George for the tape?” </i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>Lizzie would never have stopped to eaves drop if she hadn’t heard her cousin mention William Darcy’s name as she walks past Lydia’s door on her way downstairs. Ordinarily, she would have just strolled on past Lydia’s closed door. However, hearing the words Darcy, paid, George and tape in the same sentence make Lizzie halt dead in her tracks and quietly, cautiously, press her non-meddling ear to the hard wood. For a moment she wonders if she has misheard, because all she feels is empty silence reverberating through the door. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Coy Winks and Wry Smiles

**Author's Note:**

> This has already been cannonballed by Goodbye Jane, but I'd worked on it for so long, I had to post it anyway.
> 
> Edit: Thank you to duxfeminafacti for pointing out my mistakes. They've been altered. I just obviously didn't take time to edit it properly. :/

“Admit it, you like the sexy mancake because he’s rich-”

“I do _not_ like him because he’s rich!”

She covers her mouth quickly, but it is too late. Her devious little sister has goaded the words from her.

Lydia smirks.

Lizzie posts the video. She does not edit her slip out.

***

“ _Darcy_ paid George for the tape?”

Lizzie would never have stopped to eaves drop if she hadn’t heard her cousin mention William Darcy’s name as she walks past Lydia’s door on her way downstairs. Honestly, she is intent on letting her sister have her space to grieve and be angry. Recently, she’d realised Lydia is closer to Mary than either of her older sisters, despite how they’d fought. Mary, at least, had taken the time to _listen_ to Lydia. She’d conceded to let the cousins reconcile together with a lot of chocolate ice cream and Kitty, who, Lizzie is only just realising, is a particularly grumpy cat.

So, ordinarily, she would have just strolled on past Lydia’s closed door. However, hearing the words Darcy, paid, George and tape in the same sentence make Lizzie halt dead in her tracks and quietly, cautiously, press her non-meddling ear to the hard wood. For a moment she wonders if she has misheard, because all she feels is empty silence reverberating through the door.

“William Darcy? Sworn Wickham hater, William Darcy?” Mary’s incredulous voice is rising decibels by the second and Lizzie, who is still glued to the wall, wonders if she can pass off hearing this loud a conversation from the bathroom, “Darcy, who thinks you’re _energetic_?”

Lizzie cringes at the word, terrified it will set Lydia off down another spiral of crying and pillow punching (initiated after a first unfortunate encounter of her baby sister’s fist with a wall). Yet, without even mild hesitation, she scoffs loudly, then sighs so long and languidly that even Lizzie hears the exasperation in it.

“Yes, _William Darcy_. Lover of all things Lizzie Bennet and brother to known Wickham victim,” her voice sounds frustrated with how apparently slow Mary Bennet has been on the uptake, while Lizzie is shocked away from the wood momentarily. She hadn’t thought Lydia had watched her videos from Pemberley, or even been privy to Gigi’s very existence. She does not even consider the former half of the statement, “he found him, with his new app or whatever, paid him the cash for the tape and the company and threatened him with a lawsuit if he ever turned up again.”

The room drops to quiet again and Lizzie’s so shocked she fears they might be able to hear her breathing on the far side of the door. Of course, it explains a lot. Why the website disappeared, completely randomly, out of the blue. Why there was never any follow up.

Why Lydia seemed to know a secret she didn’t exactly seem ready to share with her sisters. Lizzie doesn’t dwell on the knot that forms in her stomach knowing that Lydia feels that she can confide in Mary but not Lizzie.

“That’s pretty cool...” Mary’s voice is low and Lizzie’s pretty sure she’s never heard her emotionally stunted and generally indifferent cousin sound so impressed.

“Yeah, yeah, Darcy’s totes adorbs,” Lydia’s voice is heavy with sarcasm and mockery and she can hear Mary’s loud sigh of disapproval.

“ _Lydia_ ,” she implores, “he must have paid a lot of money for that footage-”

“Yeah,” Lydia cuts in sharply, “I know. Look, I get what Darcy did was awesome. I was wrong. He’s not weird.”

Silence. She imagines Mary might be regarding her cousin with disbelief.

“OMG, okay, stop looking at me like that!” Lydia’s voice is shrill and Lizzie smirks against the door, “he’s weird, but like, in a nerdy, brilliant-for-my-older-sister kind of way.”

The drift to quiet again, Mary murmuring something Lizzie vainly strains to hear. She’s determined not to miss any details of this conversation. What she can’t comprehend  is the feeling that this revelation sends through her spine.

William Darcy, former newsie, had bailed her sister out of that nightmare. William Darcy had fixed something she herself couldn’t crack. William Darcy had done something so fantastic and brilliant and noteworthy and hadn’t even told her.

She’d already known she’d misconstrued his pride and arrogance all those months ago, but this was taking it to an entirely different level. 

“Lizzie, dear, what on earth are you doing?” She jumps back from the in surprise, turning to find her mother standing over her, wearing a look she often sports in the presence of her middle daughter. It involves a bizarrely deep eyebrow arch and a suspicious glare over wire frame glasses, supplemented frequently by firm hands on her hips.

Lizzie has the decency to look ashamed as Mary throws open the bedroom door and both younger girls stare at her with wide eyes. For a moment she thinks Lydia is going to be as perturbed by her nosiness as Mary appears.

Then slowly, with a sly wink, Lydia raises a pointed finger to her lips, grinning wryly at her bewildered older sister.

***

“My name is Lizzie Bennet and I’m dumbstruck.”

Her sisters sit, one either side of her, in front of the camera, sandwiching her between them in a newly typical show of sisterly support.

“Nerd,” the spell is broken by Lydia’s wry gibe.

Jane glances at Lydia disapprovingly, squeezing Lizzie’s upper arm in support.

“Lydia,” she chastises, “what Darcy did is-”

Lizzie, having walked around in an apparent state of shock for the last day, snaps to life at this hastening to cut her sister off as she speaks.

“What Darcy did,” she insists, “is private. Amazing. And private.” Lydia immediately rolls her eyes at her middle sibling and scoffing loudly.

“And all over the internet. You’ve totes seen Gigi’s videos.”

Jane tries to find fault with this comeback, Lizzie can tell. Her eyebrows furrow quickly and her pleasant, polite smile drops as she grapples to find a reason to ask Lydia to leave the subject alone. It’s still bizarre for the elder two. For Jane, the idea of the man who had once separated her from Bing saving her baby sister is both off-putting and heart warming. For Lizzie, it causes a surge of twisted emotions she doesn’t want to unravel.

“Whatever,” Lydia concedes, when neither of them have answered her, “let’s talk about your last video!”

Lizzie gets up and leaves and Lydia and Jane have to finish the video by using costume theatre of a highly hyped up Darcy and a slightly reluctant Lizzie in which Lizzie!Lydia throws herself at Darcy!Jane and real Jane tries not to fall off her stool.

***

“I’m going to miss my big sister,” Lizzie says to the blinking red light.

She looks down at her hands then back at the shiny, unseeing lens.

“Missing people is becoming a trend.”

***

“Lizzie! Creepy old person at the door for you!” Lizzie doesn’t think much of it when Lydia screams at her from the front door, merely standing up from her stool in front of the camera and moving towards her sister.

“Lydia,” she groans, padding towards the door in her fuzzy slippers, “it’s rude to call people creepy,” she pauses, “and old.”

She disappears out of the frame for a moment.

“Catherine?” she squeals, “De Bourgh?”

When the video cuts Lizzie and a stern looking woman with familiar looking wire frames is sitting beside her, sans anaemic dog. Her posture is impeccable, but her mouth is downturned and her eyes narrow. She regards Lizzie with a look more disdainful than any Lizzie ever sported for Darcy.

“You have an unreasonably _small_ front yard, did you know, Liz?” _Lizzie_ she feels like hissing back at her, disgusted by the older woman’s obvious distaste for their house. This is Lizzie’s home. This where she and her family live. Lizzie had the decency to never insult the tasteless decor at Rosings.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Ms De Bourgh?” she says instead, biting the inside of her lip roughly and clenching her fists. At this, the elder of the two purses her lips tightly and her beady eyes shrink until Lizzie can no longer make out the blue of the iris.

“I’m sure you’re aware, Liz,” she snipes, “why I felt obliged to visit.”

“I assure you, Ms De Bourgh, the matter is entirely perplexing.”

“It has risen to my attention that an unfathomable rumour about the nature of your relationship with my nephew has been conducted throughout his social circles. Although I am assured that it is false, for William is soon to be engaged with the delightful Ms Lee, I set forth at once to dispel any doubt.”

“What exactly are you pertaining to?”

“That you and my nephew are _dating._ Which is, obviously ridiculous. With your ludicrous mother and your youngest sister’s recent outrageous scandal, it would be a dishonour for him to associate further with you.” Lizzie can feel a flush rising up her neck, the heat of embarrassment and anger surging up to the surface of her skin.

“Dating? Surely if he were to be entering into a relationship with Ms Lee shortly, the matter would be moot. I don’t pretend to believe Will is capable of such disregard for people’s feelings.” Catherine blanks at the mention of Darcy so casually from Lizzie.

“So you are saying you’ve not heard of such an outlandish tale?” She quirks a disbelieving, patronising eyebrow.

“Never,” Lizzie all but spits at her.

“That you did not industrially circulate it yourself?” She does not have the grace to look ashamed.

“Excuse me? No!” Lizzie can’t believe the gall of this woman, this _stranger_.

“And do you promise never to enter into such a relationship?” Her thin lips purse, the lines around her mouth drowning in gaudy pink lipstick.

“It’s a wonder you even have to ask such a question, if you are so certain that Will wouldn’t come within ten feet of me romantically. However, no, I promise no such thing. And I never shall. So, do not bother asking again.” When she plays the video back, later on, after the shock of the encounter and a long tea break, Lizzie will be surprised by the intensity of her words. She will be shocked by how fiercely she meant them. How thoroughly she agrees with video Lizzie.

Because, she realises, if he asked, of course she’d say yes.

“The impertinence! Do you really think you could matter to him?” The older woman’s grin is triumphant and Lizzie is sure the old her would have faltered. _Maybe,_ she thinks, _I might not matter to him now, but I was important to him once. And I am still valuable now. Perhaps not to Darcy, but to Lydia, to Gigi, to Jane and Charlotte._  

“You have insulted my family, disregarded my privacy and attempted to destroy my self-respect. You now can have nothing more to say to me. I must tell you to leave.”

She stands, her head disappears out of the frame, but her gesturing arm is firm and direct. Catherine has no choice but to huff, stand and leave the room, the tip of her heels clicking off the wooden floors. Lizzie shadows her. She opens the door, meeting Catherine’s challenging eye. She never liked the woman, but this is her territory. Lizzie’s not about to be bullied by her.

“I cannot conceive how rude and inconsiderate you are being, Liz.” She steps out onto the front porch. Her voice is as sharp as ever, but Lizzie finds she no longer cares. If there’s anything to be learned over the course of her videos, it’s that timing is never going to perfect.

So, she sets her jaw and holds her head higher.

“It’s Lizzie!”

She slams the door in her face. The bang is resounding.

Lydia creeps out from around the kitchen door and offers up a congratulatory smile to her sister.

“I hope you broke her creepy, crooked nose.”

***

“Would you have said yes?”

Lydia and Lizzie are alone in the den, their parents are visiting their Aunt and Jane is with Bing, packing.

“To what?” Lizzie looks up from her laptop, where a cursor blinks mockingly on an empty document entitled: “Pemberley: CEO”. 

“To the theatre? To Darcy?”

Lizzie doesn’t answer  for a moment so Lydia turns back to her assignment.

“Yes.”

***

“I think you may have upset Darcy’s Aunt,” Lydia’s attempt at hiding her smirk is admirable, but Lizzie knows she is delighted by the previous video.

“Possibly.”

Lydia opens her mouth to fire another retort when Jane walks in, shadowed closely by Bing and announces joyfully that he’ll be following her to New York. They talk only of plans for visits from her sisters and where her apartment might be (Lizzie has a sneaky suspicion Jane will announce she’s moving in with Bing before she leaves, but for the moment she doesn’t say a word).

They chat amicably for a few minutes and Lizzie is starting to think she’ll have to cut most of the footage when Jane startles beside Lydia.

“What are you going to do about Netherfield?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? Darcy flew in yesterday with Fitz and Gigi. He’s going to look after organising the upkeep for when we come back for the holidays and vacations...”

Bing blushes at this blasé implication of their future together.

Lizzie stares blankly. Her eyes are full of terror and her body instantly tense with anticipation.

The video cuts.

Lydia is alone. She winks conspiratorially at the camera.

***

“Lizzie B!”

“Lizzie!”

Lizzie is ambushed on the final girl’s night out before Jane leaves for New York. They are lounging in a booth at Carter’s drinking fruity cocktails and trying not to mention the impending separation. Fitz and Gigi appear from thin air, waving their hands around so enthusiastically that Gigi manages to spill her Mojitio all over what is probably a very expensive dress.

She rises to greet them, delighted to be reunited with them both. She hugs them tightly.

“I’ve missed you!” she smiles widely, genuinely while Fitz leans around her to shake hands with Lydia and Jane, the pair of whom watch the encounter with trepidation. Lizzie is struck by how strange that is. Here are two sets of entirely different people who mean the world to her, yet neither really know much more about the other than they’ve seen in videos or Lizzie has expressed to them. She finds she is glad they’ve finally had the chance to meet before Jane goes gallivanting across the country.

Before she knows what’s happening, Lizzie is back beside Lydia, scooting over to make room for Gigi.

“Lydia, right?” Gigi says, raising her glass at the younger girl, “nice to _finally_ get to meet you.”

“And you,” Lizzie turns to her sister. Her voice has an odd tone to it. Coy. Wry.

“I have a feeling we’re going to get on splendidly,” Gigi shouts louder as a pounding dance song begins to blast from the speakers.

“Now what ever would give you that idea?” Lizzie turns to her sister sharply, ready to reprimand her, gently, for her sarcastic response. Then she sees her Lydia’s unabashedly large smile.

“What have you two been up to?” Lizzie asks and Gigi widens her big eyes, innocently shrugging her shoulders.

“Oh don’t worry Lizzie, sexy mancake is not here tonight,” Lydia scoffs, condescendingly patting Lizzie’s hand, resting on the table.

Gigi, for her part, tries to hide her grin behind her hand. She is not very successful.

***

“So, we ran into Gigi and Fitz last night.”

Gigi, who has crashed another of Lizzie’s videos, is sitting on her right, while Lydia occupies her left.

“Lizzie was disappointed that mancake-newsie-bot couldn’t make it.”

“Stop calling him a mancake. It’s weird. He’s my brother.”

“Oh My God. What is my life coming to?”

“Chillax, Lizzie, you could do worse.”

“I was talking about the fact that when Jane leaves tomorrow, you two will be my only friends who don’t live 10 million miles away.”

***

William Darcy accompanies Bing Lee to his and Jane’s farewell dinner. Her mother welcomes him begrudgingly and dutifully sets another place at the table. Albeit, she doesn’t do it without complaint.

“I _suppose_ that I have enough shrimp to go around, Mr Darcy.”

“It really is an inconvenience having to divide this salmon into seven.”

“Oh dear, now there are an uneven amount of profiteroles for each guest.”

 Darcy, for his part, accepts this berating without complaint.

“Thank you very much for being so obliging,” he says to her at one point, and Lizzie has to stop herself from giggling by biting the inside of her lip. He is as stiff and awkward as always, but Lizzie finds herself thinking that it is adorable and kind of endearing. She finds she has become enamoured by the way he smiles fleetingly in her direction every so often, and fascinated by the way he laughs at her impression of Gigi singing “Independent Woman” on their karaoke night back when she was still at Pemberley Digital and she still knew how to pretend not to love him.

Her father warms to him as the evening progresses, which makes Lizzie inexplicably happy. They talk about politics and the quality of fishing available at Lake Tahoe. Darcy even invites her father on a fishing excursion when the weather has improved slightly.

She sneaks a moment alone with him and breathlessly thanks him for what he did for Lydia, for her family.

He tells her that he didn’t do it for Lydia or for her parents and leaves her staring after him in confusion.

When he and Bing leave he wishes her well and leans down to kiss her on the cheek and Lydia insists she’s an idiot because she didn’t just ravish him there on the street for all the neighbours to see.

***

Her mother peers closely at her when she makes her way back inside.

“Lizzie, darling, why are you so flushed?”

***

“So, Jane is gone... It was _weird_ to watch them leave together. Feels like the beginning of some new era...” she confesses to the camera, moved to her newly decorated meditating bedroom area, lit by the glow of the luminous aquarium.

She is silent then, staring at her hands, contemplating whether or not it’s too early to call Jane and organise a trip out there tomorrow even though neither she nor Bing (who have, surprisingly, not dropped this living separately thing) have a place to house her yet. She’ll sleep on the subway.

“Lizzie?” she almost falls off her chair she is so surprised by the deep voice that calls to her from her doorway. William Darcy is filling the space between the frame, all six foot two of him. She has never been so suddenly aware of someone’s presence before, of how he manages to steal her breath and engulf her in warmth just by entering the room and twitching the corner of his mouth at her startled expression.

“Will.”

He blinks, hard, at her use of this new version of his name.

“Is it a bad time?”

“No,” she answers, her voice soft before she clears her throat and repeats it, louder, more determined, “No.”

He smiles at her and takes a step across the threshold and moves to sit beside her. His eyes, she notices, are a beautiful shade of blue. She gestures for him to join her and he sits beside her, regarding her camera wearingly for a moment.

“Did you see your sister off this morning?”

“Yes. We went to airport with her and Bing.”

“I see. I trust they arrived safely.”

“Yes,” she’s beginning to think that her usually extensive vocabulary is going to abandon her completely, “she called my mother when they’d landed.”

He nods.

“Good.”

“Lizzie-”

“Will-”

 _Nerds_ she can almost hear Lydia mutter.

“Go ahead.”

“Lizzie, I came to apologise for my aunt’s behaviour. I saw the video. Her manners and crudeness were unacceptable. I’m sorry.” His cheeks are slightly red. He is ashamed, she realises. Embarrassed by his family the way she once was.

“Oh,” she says and she knows her disappointment is probably evident in her voice, in the way she looks away from him, away from the camera and all the possibilities. Then, she channels whatever energy that made her slam a door in Catherine De Bourgh’s face and returns to his gaze bravely, “is that all?”

If he is shocked by her sudden frankness he does not show it. Instead, it is his turn to shy away from her, to glance at the camera, then to his hands, then back to Lizzie, who waits patiently.

“No,” he admits, and she lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, “I came to ask you... Did you mean... Lizzie, that video, your previous videos, the ones that followed, they have caused me to hope, which I have scarcely allowed myself before. I know you are too kind, too honest, to toy with me.”

Neither of them dare to break their stare and ruin this moment and go back to pretending that this is not something far more intense than either of them are owning up to.

“What I mean to say, Lizzie, is that I don’t believe we missed our chance-”

“I was talking about Bing-” The incredulous look he shoots her shuts her up immediately.

“If you still feel like you did at Halloween,” he continues and she blanches at the mention of that unfortunate _incident_ , “let me know. My feelings have not changed, but one word would silence me on the matter forever.”

She considers him intently for a moment, before sighing, the stiffness of her tense shoulders relaxing and her gaze softening.

“I love you, too, Will.” It does not hang in the air as his declaration did, rather he eases too, reaching out to take her hand and rub his thumb over her knuckles. Even this limited skin contact makes her whole body awaken. Her hand literally tingles beneath his.

 “Say it, please,” she whispers.

“Lizzie Bennet, I am in love with you.”

She cannot help herself, she careens herself out of her chair and into his arm. Her lips find his in a frenzy of hands combing through hair and exploring parts of each other which had previously been prohibited.

“Lizzie,” he murmurs against the cupids bow of her lip and she thinks she can probably get used to the way he makes her name sound like something precious.

***

They do not tell anyone for nearly three weeks (she posted an very oddly edited video, all kissing footage cut), before Lydia, Gigi and Fitz catch them making out against Darcy’s rental car in the parking lot of Carter’s on a night out.

Gigi cannot contain her squeals, while Fitz compliments the improvement of Darcy’s previously questionable game.

Lydia, however, just rushes over to an ambushed, bewildered Lizzie, holds out her palm for a high five and, slightly tipsily, screams “WHAAAAAAAT?”

 

 

 


End file.
